Could it be that simple?
by shannyforever
Summary: Jane may be the youngest cop to make detective, but when it comes to understanding Maura Isles, she consistently comes up empty...
1. Chapter 1

**Just a short bit of dribble that I will attempt to turn into something more.**

I may be the youngest cop to make detective, but when it comes to understanding Maura Isles, I consistently come up empty. Sure, I know many of her traits; some bordering on annoying. Like how she is never, ever wrong. Mind you, that's mostly because she knows practically everything. And she doesn't guess, so that kind of makes being wrong near impossible. She has many traits that are definitely frustrating… such as her constant suggestions about having sex to boost my immune system, or her lack of ability to lie, even if it means solving a case or to help a situation. Most of her traits, though, are just plain adorable. Like the fact that she has a tortoise as a pet. Or that she never seems to understand idioms. And she's so freakin' innocent; she breaks out in hives whenever she does anything remotely dishonest. She's just this ridiculously smart, amazing… goofy person that for some reason, puts up with my abuse.

But what I wanna know is… why? Why does she put up with me? Why does she allow me to keep coming back? What's with the lingering touches, and the long, meaningful looks? I swear, sometimes she'll look at me… and it's like she's looking through me, you know? Like my heart and mind just opens up, just for her, and she can see right through to my soul. And then she smiles, with her eyes sparkling bright, and that ridiculously gorgeous dimple on the left side of her cheek, and it makes me wonder… is this more than a friendship? Could she possible want more from me that what we have? Are these feelings I get when I'm around her a sign… I might want something more from her? Because that smile… oh that smile just makes me crumble.

"Jane!"

Huh?

"What?" Shit, day dreaming again?

"I said are you coming?" Frost says with a sly grin. "Daydreaming again?"

"Shut it Frost. I'm coming," I respond as I grab my jacket and head to the lift. "Robber?"

"Where else?"


	2. Chapter 2

So the obvious way to find out whether Maura feels anything for me beyond friendship is to ask her. I know that. She's sitting next to me now, sipping her wine in a booth at the Robber with Frost and Korsak, and she's sitting so close to me that I can feel her thigh against mine. Occasionally when she's talking animatedly about something, which, let's be honest, occurs quite frequently, her hand will fall onto my thigh. Why does she do that? Does it affect her as much as it affects me? Because half the time it is as though she doesn't realise she even does it, meanwhile I'm going crazy and zoning out in front of everybody.

"Jane?"

Shit, see?! I did it again!

"What?"

"I said do you want another beer?" Frost asks, the glint of humour in his eye suddenly becoming serious concern.

"Um, yea. But I'll get it," I reply, gesturing to Maura to move as I turn to try and slide out of the booth.

She has other ideas, however, and places her hand on my shoulder, stopping me from moving.

"Jane, are you ok?" she asks in a low voice to not be over heard.

Am I ok? Well, not really. In fact, I'm confused, emotional, and just a bit aroused by my best friend sitting so close to me in a booth, placing her hand on my thigh, creating all sorts of issues. But when I look into her eyes, and I see genuine concern, I try my best to hide it all. As usual.

"Yea, I'm fine. Just tired," I reply with a smile. "Do you want another wine?"

After a moment of scrutinising me with her eyes, she nods politely and lets me pass with a "Thank you."

As I'm ordering our drinks, Frost slides up to the bar beside me and gives me the look. You know the look; the one that says 'what the hell is going on with you'. I sigh and turn away from him.

"Don't ask, Frost."

He looks at me closely for a moment longer. I'm not facing him; I'm facing the bar, waiting for my drinks. But I can feel his eyes on me.

"It's Maura, isn't it?"

What the? I turn to face him, and for once I am unable to hide my reaction. For starters, I think I just gave myself whiplash. And secondly, I can't control the momentary 'deer in headlights' look quick enough to hide it.

"What? No. What about Maura?"

"Honestly, Jane. The tension between you two is intense," he replies before turning to the bar to order his beer.

"Wha… Frost, don't be stupid," I reply as I take my change and pick up my drinks. "There's no tension. We are fine."

"Whatever you say," Frost replies with a shrug as I turn to walk away. Before I can leave, though, he places his hand on my shoulder. "Can I just ask you one question?"

I look briefly to Maura then back at Frost with a sigh. "Sure. Shoot."

He looks slightly uncomfortable, which makes me more than slightly uncomfortable about what he wants to ask me.

"Are you two… or have you ever been…" he starts, before raising his eyebrows and nodding his head, "You know… a thing?"

What the hell?

"What? Are you serious?" I reply, putting my drinks back down on the bar. "No, and no, and that's the dumbest question I've ever heard."

He's looking at me like he's wondering whether he can believe me.

"What on earth even made you ask that?" I ask, lowering my voice now to avoid making a scene.

He just shrugs, as if that's an explanation. Oh, hell no. He needs to explain himself better than that.

"Frost! Explain yourself."

"Come on, Jane. Can you really blame people for thinking it?" he replies with a cautious smile.

It takes me a moment to really think this question through. My first instinct is to berate him further for even insinuating it. And I almost do, until I look over his shoulder and see the concern on Maura's face as she looks our way. I look back at Frost, but honestly, I'm looking right through him. I am picturing the friendship that Maura and I have. I can see her eyes shining bright as I walk into her office. I see the little touches when no one is looking; us cuddled up on the couch, talking, watching tv, or just sipping wine.

I look back at Maura over Frosts shoulder and she's still looking at me. This time, she offers me a smile, and I think my heart just about jumps out of my rib cage.

Shit.

"Jane?"

Huh? Again?

"Mmm?" is all I can respond with.

"Tell her, Jane," Frost says as he picks up his drinks and makes his way over to the booth.

I pick up our drinks and follow him, still in a daze, but slowly coming back. I need a moment to regather.

"I'm going to use the rest room," I say as I place our drinks on the table and walk off without waiting for a response.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews :-)**

"Tell her?" I ask myself, repeating Frost's words, before I stop in the mirror and look at myself properly.

I'm not gay. I like men. This is crazy. I mean, it's Maura! I can't be attracted to Maura. Maura, my best friend. Maura, my colleague. No. I'm not attracted to her.

"Am I?" I say to myself, now confused.

I turn on the water and splash my face when I hear the door to the rest room open. When I raise my head, I look in the mirror to see Maura walk in. Maura; my best friend; my colleague, in a little red dress that is clinging to her skin, accentuating her curves to perfection. Her modest cleavage, elegant neckline… those expressive eyes and the little dimple that I know is right there on the left side of her face every time she smiles. But she's not smiling now. She looks worried.

"Jane?" she says rather urgently.

Shit. Did I zone out again?

"Yes?" I respond, trying to act normal. Trying to save face. Did she notice that I was… well, staring (ogling) her?

"Jane, are you ok? You have been acting very peculiar tonight," she continues as she steps up beside me and rests her hand on my bicep, her eyes searching mine for a response.

I know I have been. But to admit that will require an explanation. An explanation that I'm not quite willing to even properly acknowledge just yet, let alone fess up to.

"I'm just tired, like I said," I reply as I grab a paper towel and dry my face. "I think I might head home."

"Let me drive you. I don't want you driving in this state," she offers. But it's more like a demand than an offer, as she's already heading towards the door with a determined step.

"That's not really necessary," I say, but she turns and gives me 'resolve' face, which means I won't be winning this time and we needn't discuss it any further.

So yes, there are many things I know about Maura Isles. I know what every look means. I know her moods, and I know when she means one thing but says another (albeit without actually lying). I know the things that upset her, and the things that make her happy. I know when to talk to her, and when to let her do all the talking. And I've always know what a wonderful person she is; caring, considerate, passionate about her work and life in general. I guess what I'm only just now starting to realise is that I also know every curve of her body, every freckle on her shoulders, and every inch of her face. I know what mood she is by the way she walks, and I notice the way she walks because I can't help but watch her whenever she is in my line of sight.

And while I'm standing here realising all this, she's standing there staring at me, eyebrows raised, head tilted slightly, and her mouth on the verge of forming a sly little grin.

"Ok, let's go then," I say as I regather myself (and some of my dignity) and walk past her out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Oh, the delay! I'm am so very sorry! I was updating my other story more frequently that this (which, admittedly, wasn't frequent enough) but it has finished now and I shall endeavour to work on this one with every spare moment (which, sadly, I don't have enough of). I hope this was at least worth the wait.

* * *

To say the ride home was awkward would be an understatement. Well, at least for me. Firstly, the silence. Normally the silence that lingers between us is comfortable. Comforting, even. But when my mind is racing with sexy thoughts of the woman driving next to me, it is most certainly NOT comfortable. Or comforting for that matter. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that it was displeasing. Well, not in the physical sense, because… well, you can figure that out. But my brain is going crazy, and that is not pleasant at all.

Secondly… I'm preeeety sure she caught me ogling her. If not in the Robber rest room, then most certainly while we were driving. They were just… THERE! And when we turned a corner, and her arms brushed them, because she's driving like I'm Miss Daisy with her two hands in the 10 and 2 position, they just… prop up. This happened not once, but twice. The first time, I swear I saw a glimmer of amusement in her eye. Which leads me to believe that the second time was a set up. She practically popped them out for me. Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the drive home watching my sad ass reflection in the passenger side window.

So yes, the ride home was most certainly awkward. But all it does is leave me with more questions. And now here we are in my living room (because she suggested a night cap and I wasn't able to form a word that wasn't affirmative) with a bottle of wine on the bench between us (because a single glass just won't do) and she's all smiles and dimples and I'm again spending too much time in my head because I'm pretty sure she's just asked me a question and is waiting for a response.

"I'm sorry, what?" Damn it, Jane. Focus. Eyes up!

"I said that you seem very distracted tonight. Is everything ok?"

She's back to being worried. Maybe she should be.

"Yea, sorry. It's just been a very long, and very strange day…or week, for that matter."

That's the best I can come up with. What am I supposed to say? 'Oh, sorry, I'm just distracted by your ample cleavage and the way your body feels whenever you brush against me'. Yes, that would go down well.

"Jane?"

Shit, really? Again?

"Hmm?"

She's putting her glass down. I seriously must have missed something. What the hell is wrong with me tonight?

"What on earth is wrong with you tonight?" she asks. Huh. That's almost exactly what I was wondering.

Now she's making her way around the bench. I think she's going to try and see if I have a fever. I wouldn't be surprised if I do, especially if she comes any closer.

"Maura, I'm just really tired. I think I should just call it a night."

And before her hand reaches my forehead I'm off to start my nightly routine of checking windows and stuff.

"Should I stay? That way I can drive you to your car in the morning before work."

"No. No it's ok. I can take a cab." Ok, eager beaver. No need to decline the offer so fervently.

Wait, fervently? I don't say 'fervently'! Stupid Maura with her stupid vocabulary.

"Ok, well, if you're sure."

With our glasses half full on the bench, she picks up her bag and heads to the door.

"You'll call if you need anything, won't you? You just don't seem yourself at all tonight."

Definitely not my usual, straight, self.

"I know. And I will. I think I just need a good night's rest."

I walk to the door to lock it behind her, but she stops in the doorway, and she's looking at me with concern face again.

"Are you not sleeping again?"

For goodness sake, woman. Leave, before I motorboat you!

"I am. I promise."

"Ok." And with a lingering smile… my God, those sexy eyes! ... she is gone.

I shut the door behind her and slide down the back of it.

"Lord, give me the strength to resist the things I cannot have, and the courage to go after the things I cannot live without… And the courtesy to ignore the urge to plummet head first into my best friends cleavage."

With a deep breath and a shake of my head, I begin to stand… just as I hear a polite knock on the door I'm leaning on.

Shit, please let it not be her!

"Jane?"

Shit! Please let her not have heard me!

I open the door and she walks right past me. Is she smirking?

"I left my keys on the bench."

She picks them up and turns to walk back out. The smirk is gone. Was I imagining it?

"Good night, Jane."

"Good night, Maura." Oh, there you are voice. Welcome back.

I need a beer!

* * *

A/N: I know what it's like waiting on new complete stories to read, or waiting on updates for incomplete ones, so I promise to make an effort to update this one :-)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I might be sounding like a broken record, but I really am sorry for the delay in updating. I hope I still have some followers ;-) If so, know that your 'follows, favourites and reviews' are treasured (and encourage me to update - when I get a chance to log in and see them). Thank you for your patience.

* * *

Okay, so it's been three days since my freak out at the Robber, and I've been thinking… The most plausible explanation for my behaviour that night is that I need to start dating again. Screw Casey and his here one minute, gone the next, scenario. I need someone who's gonna be here on a more regular basis. Someone who is there for me when I actually need them, not just when it suits them (ok, so he's a soldier and it's his duty. What about his duty to me?). Someone who can… you know, satisfy me… in… you know, the bedroom, and stuff. Someone…

*click, click, click*

Someone…

*click, click, click*

Crap, seriously? What are the chances of me zoning out at my desk, thinking about finding someone who can… satisfy me…, and Maura walking in with her *click, click, click* heals and her "my skirt is just waiting to be lifted up around my waist" dress, and that god forsaken rack of god.

I've managed to avoid any real contact with her for three days, obviously in order to overcome my lapse the other night, and one look at her makes me come undone all over again.

"Jane?!"

Crappity crap! Focus Rizzoli! Work mode!

"Yes?"

Put your tongue back in your mouth and close it.

"I have those lab results you wanted."

She hands over the file and I can just feel three sets of eyes on me. I look up inconspicuously and Frost has his eyebrows hovering in his hairline. Korsak is clearly confused, and Maura is… amused?

"So, someone poisoned him?" I ask, reading over the file. Is my voice normally that high pitched?

"No. While the cause of death was from a poison," she corrected, leaning casually against my desk, "It's possible it was an accident."

"He was poisoned… by accident?" I ask incredulously, lifting my eyes from the lab results. Big mistake. Huge. And by huge, I mean huge amounts of cleavage, in my face; more than I've ever seen on Maura, hovering at my eye level. Kind of hard to ignore.

"_Toxicodendron vernix_, commonly known as Poison sumac, is a woody shrub and when burned, inhalation of the smoke may cause a rash to appear on the lining of the lungs, causing extreme pain. If not treated promptly, can lead to, as in this case, fatal respiratory difficulty."

I can't help but stare at her. Sometimes when she talks, it might seem like I'm shaking my head because she is just rambling off crap that isn't at all pertinent to the case…

Wait… Pertinent? Since when did you make your way into my vocabulary?

Anyway, so it might seem like that, but in reality I am in awe of her knowledge. I mean, I can't even pronounce…

"Toxic Condundrum what now?"

"_Toxicodendron vernix_."

Right. Now she's got this smirk thing happening…God, I need to control my hormones. And these crazy butterflies that are fluttering about. This is crazy! It's Maura! Maura, my best friend. Maura, my colleague. Maura, the quirky, sexy, Chief Medical Examiner that is staring at me like I'm the last doughnut in the box.

Really? What am I, a piece of meat? Well, if it's her meat…

"Ah, right, ok… So," I stand, and make my way over to the white board, "we've got no witnesses, no suspects, and a dead botanist."

*click, click, click*

Oh, thank god she's leaving. I turn to confirm her departure, just as she looks at me from the elevators. Our eyes lock, and I think she knows. She must know. I've seen that look before, and it's usually directed towards a fine male specimen. Definitely not me. Or… sometimes me, but that has only ever caused confusion for me.

For now, though, I really need to focus. And on something other than Maura's tiny red dress.

Somehow, I managed. Somehow I managed to concentrate long enough to solve a case. Granted, it turned out not to be an actually homicide (great work, Chief Medical Examiner), but it is solved none the less.

And it's not until 6pm as I am seated at a table at the Robber with Frost and Korsak that I hear again the *click* of a heel that makes my heart race a million miles an hour.

"Barry. Vince," she says as she stands by the table. "Jane," she finishes after a slight pause. I swear to God, just the way my name sounds coming from those lips is a turn on these days. What am I, ovulating or something?

She takes a seat opposite me next to Frost.

"Great work on that Botanist case, Doc," Frost pipes up.

"Thank you, Detective Frost. Although, it was a rather simple discovery. You all did the hard work, with your gumshoe thing," she says with a smile and a pointed look in my direction.

The pointed look turns to a sultry look and I'm convinced that my day dreaming has turned into hallucinations. Is she biting her bottom lip?

"Wine?" I squeak. Argh. Squeaking now? Try again, Rizzoli. "Would you like a wine, Maura?"

She arches a brow at me; obviously heard my little squeakfest over here. "Thank you, Jane. White would be lovely."

And I'm up and at the bar before my tongue has a chance to roll down my chin and land on the table with a thump. I don't think I can avoid this thing much longer. I feel like I'm about to burst!

"Jane?" I turn my head at the sound of her voice. Her voice that is littered with concern and affection. She slides up next to me at the bar. "Is everything ok?"

I turn to the bar and order, anything to give myself a minute to inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale… "A white wine."

I turn to face her as I feel a hand creep under my jacket, landing on my hip, caressing the would-be skin there (a skin tight top is not much of a barrier) in a comforting manner. Well, comforting if it's your best friend. But racy and hot if it's the object of all your wet dreams and desires.

"Jane… have you been avoiding me?"

"Ah…" I look down at her hand on my hip. Gulp. "Why would I be avoiding you?"

She looks up at me with squinty eyes, clearly attempting to read me. Her eyes glance briefly down to her hand, and I might have missed it had I been watching that same hand any longer. Does she know what she's doing to me?

"That is a good question," she says, her voice low, eyes not leaving mine. She's close enough that I can see the speckles of gold in her eyes, but she takes a step closer before speaking again. "Although I can think of a reason or two that might be accurate." Her voice is husky, and damn if it didn't just make my core pulse. She knows. She knows damn well what's she's doing to me.

"Are you guessing, Dr Isles?" I ask with a gruffness in my voice I didn't realise I had. What can I say, she brings out the sexy in me.

"Hypothesising," she corrects, slinking a finger into the loop of my belt and pulling me a little closer. "If you take me home, I'd be more than happy to test my hypothesis," she whispers into my ear, before turning to the bar, picking up her wine, and walking back to the table with (if I'm not mistaken) and extra sway in her hips.

I turn to follow (because who wouldn't follow that?), but the barman coughs at me. Right. Money. In exchange for goods. I slap a bill on the bar and make my way back to the table.


End file.
